Exercise is the new crack

There are two main reasons why I like Fraser Nelson. Firstly, the man can really rock a polo shirt. Secondly, he’s a very good writer. This month it’s the latter that interests me. His piece in the June Arena about the exercise epidemic down Westminster really got me thinking. Not about the likes of Jack Straw getting hot and sweaty in some airless sardine can below the House of Commons, because that’s almost too disgusting for words. But about the similar occurrence within my own social strastosphere. Which actually, isn’t much more pleasant.

Vigorous workouts, says Nelson, have replaced boozy lunches as the mid-day activity of choice. In the case of the world of consumer media, or more specifically the Arena office, this used to be partying. Only they did it at night. And in the morning. And there was no food involved. But the stories the next day were fantastic.

Nowadays there are far fewer tales of school-night debauchery and hours lost in various east London party spots. The two boys I share a desk with roll into the office and argue about whose turn it is to book places on the bums and tums class at lunchtime.

Now, arguably hitting the gym is better way to spend their time than spending night after night ingesting God knows what, but as I said, I’ve been trying to work out why on earth working out has become the social activity du jour. Literally everyone I know is dashing off at peculiar hours of the day to exercise. Nelson points out that political types do this to keep on top of their job; being healthier makes them look better, and do a more plausible job of convincing everyone that they are fit to run the country. I get that. But it doesn’t apply to most people. And it especially doesn’t apply to people whose job demands that they go out a lot. And who up until around a month ago didn’t give a toss about healthy living.

Personally I have it nailed down to two rationales, the first of which is that exercise is, in some circles, this season’s coke or ketamine, ie, what you’re using to get your rocks off. Both involve spells of giddy euphoria, followed by a period of being absolutely knackered. Maybe it’s not a sign that society is becoming health conscious, rather it’s just a phase, a way of getting kicks until they come up with a new designer narcotic.

The other, and more probable reason is the masculine need to compete. Boys just get so riled up about beating each other in the physical arena. This morning in the office we’ve already had comparison of biceps. Sometimes they make you feel who has the hardest abs as well. I understand the motivation behind this. I’ve been running at weekends since the beginning of the year. But since my flatmate took it up also I’ve been going a lot more. Not with her, you understand. It’s not something we do together. I now do it after work because I don’t want her to beat me. I’ve also worked out that running whilst I’m not sweating out the after-effects of a Jack Daniels binge is unspeakably easier, but that’s secondary to being the most committed athlete in my house. Which, given our physical prowess, is a bit of a dubious honour.

Nelson marks the end of his article with a quote from Plato: “Lack of activity destroys the good condition of every human being, while movement and physical exercise save it.” Personally, I think that the condition of every human ego might be a more accurate description.